


Workout

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek - Various Authors, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-17 00:44:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3508790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an impressive run on an away mission, Pavel returns to the ship pumped. (Inspired by <i>Savage Trade</i>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Workout

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Inspired by a scene in the TOS novel _Savage Trade_ (p19) where Pavel saves Spock and comes back to the Enterprise pumped. Special thanks to my darling abbeyjewel for betaing!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The adrenaline surge is still pumping through his veins when he gets back to the Enterprise, still raging to pound against his ears after he talks to the poor redshirt that wasn’t quite fast enough, _not like Pavel was_. Pavel, not even in security, not yet, lunged himself at Commander Spock, tackled him right to the floor, and saved him from stepping on a landmine and blowing the entire away party to pieces. _He_ did that, and even though their mission’s far from over, he already got a kick out of his small involvement.

He explains to the young security ensign, who’s still sulking over having froze up and not saved Spock before Pavel, that it’s always going to be scary. It’s normal to freeze up when the adrenaline gets to you like that. But Pavel doesn’t explain that it works two ways: first fear, then _excitement_ , and he’s itching on the balls of his feet to do _something_ with it.

When he’s done eating and consoling, he doesn’t go back to his cabin, not yet. It’s still beta shift, which means the alpha crew’s off the bridge, and a certain lieutenant should be in his cabin. Pavel heads there instead of his own, because even if he’s finally earned his own rooms, he doesn’t want to spend a minute in them more than he has to. He gets lonely too easily, even with the holos of Mother Russia plastered everywhere. Better to be with his partner in crime, the one man he’s glued himself to since day one.

Hikaru’s doors open easily for him, always do. The sensors are programmed to read his DNA and take him in just as quick as they do Hikaru himself, a nifty bit of engineering that Pavel’s rigged up after some talks with Commander Scott. He’s already kicking off his boots as he walks through the living space, beelined for the bedroom. He isn’t particularly surprised to find Hikaru there in the corner, bent over a furry green plant from who-knows-where. Hikaru doesn’t even bother to turn around, just calls, “One minute—” But he doesn’t get that far.

Pavel breaks into a run, grabbing Hikaru around the middle and tackling him sideways to the bed. Hikaru yelps, his watering can toppling down to the carpet with a clatter and a splash. For one split-second, they’re lost in wrestling, not quite sure what’s going on but running on instinct to _come out on top_ , and Pavel rolls Hikaru over and springs to his knees, looking down at his lover to chant a triumphant, “ _Da!_ ”

“What’s gotten into _you_?” Hikaru chuckles, looking up with his big grin. Hikaru’s smile could light a dark cabin, and it makes Pavel feel giddy in his chest, just as much now as it did when they first met and Hikaru gave him _that_ look. Pavel’s breathing a little hard with exertion, heart clenching with the thrill.

“I saved Spock,” he explains, too proud. But he’s always a bit over-proud, and though Hikaru teases and scolds him, Hikaru is indulgent. He shifts below Pavel so his head can rest in the long, rolled-up pillow, and Pavel rocks his hips against Hikaru and explains, “There vas a landmine, and he didn’t see it, but _I_ did, and I threw him out of the vay, just like that.”

“Amazing,” Hikaru says wryly, almost smirking.

“It _vas_ amazing. There were two security officers, and they did nothing. It vas me. The whole landing party, including the keptin, would have been killed.”

“Did he say thank you?”

Pavel snorts and shakes his head, “He is still Meester Spock.” And he didn’t say thank you at all, because obviously losing anyone would’ve disrupted the mission, and a rescue was simply _logical_. Pavel rocks his hips harder, because Hikaru is so very _beautiful_ , especially when he’s listening to Pavel’s day, and just thinking about his own skills in the face of danger on a heavy-gravity nowhere-world makes Pavel brimming with energy that he has to release _right now_. He puts one hand to either side of Hikaru’s shoulders in the mattress and dives right down, sealing his mouth onto Hikaru’s, and it’s _good_ , so good. Hikaru tastes like honey. He was probably sampling one of the Mrennenimian orchid’s petals again, and it gives him that exotic, sparkling texture to his tongue that Pavel tries to lick right off. He could kiss Hikaru for days.

The more he kisses Hikaru, the more he grinds their bodies together, and he’s already hard through his uniform pants. Neither of them has changed yet, and their gold tunics slide against one another, Pavel collapsing atop his lover to let his sturdy Hikaru take all the weight. He uses his hands to cup Hikaru’s face instead, run back through the silky black strands and thumb Hikaru’s jutting cheekbones. Their noses bump together too much, because Pavel’s inexperienced and over-eager. He can’t stop _kissing_ , even when he knows he should adjust. Finally, Hikaru has to shove him away by the shoulders. “Somebody’s in a mood,” Hikaru laughs, his lips pink and wet from use.

“You smell good,” Pavel whines. Hikaru _always_ smells good, the perfect, bizarre mix of floral pollen and musky aftershave. The perfume surrounds Pavel, sucks him in. He’s so hopped up on adrenaline that he’s humping Hikaru’s crotch without even realizing it. He’s just chasing endorphins, grinding them together.

Hikaru’s the one that reaches for the nightstand, fiddling in the top drawer. Lube’s never far away, not with Pavel as excitable as he is, and Hikaru so indulgent. Not that Hikaru doesn’t get in his moods. By the time Hikaru pulls the bottle out, Pavel’s lapping at his neck like a mindless dog, even Hikaru’s _sweat_ tastes good.

Probably more often than not, Hikaru tops, but today, Pavel grabs the lube before he gets a chance. Smearing it into one palm, Pavel barely manages to get the lid back on without spilling it everywhere. Hikaru takes the hint, pushing down his pants and underwear to the top of his thighs, then fumbling to put the bottle back atop the nightstand. Pavel grabs Hikaru’s cock in one hand, pumps it hard and fast, and slicks the other down between Hikaru’s legs, jamming his fingers into Hikaru’s crack. Hikaru hisses, and Pavel mutters a quick, “Sorry.” But then he’s busy nipping Hikaru’s jaw, grinding himself into Hikaru’s thigh and searching out Hikaru’s hole. He rubs his finger around it, coating it with lube, and the self-heating liquid makes the tender skin flutter, dilating open for him. He tries to pump Hikaru’s cock with his other hand, but he’s forgotten that it’s dry, and Hikaru slaps him away.

Hikaru holds onto his shoulders, smoothes over his back and down his chest, coming to the hem of his tunic. Pavel has to pull his hand away to let Hikaru tear the gold shirt off him, leaving bare peach skin, still a little slick with the sweat the heavy-gravity planet pulled out of him. Hikaru grunts as Pavel’s fingers seek him out again, one insistent digit popping inside. The lube makes it easy to wriggle up and piston in and out, and Hikaru winces but opens for him, adjusting easy enough. They take each other like rabbits, anyway, and this is nothing new—a quick romp after shift, before shift, in the middle on washroom breaks or against the wall of a jammed turbolift. The first few times Hikaru took him, it _hurt_ , even with all the careful preparation and Hikaru’s kindness, but now they know each other’s bodies like the backs of their hands, and Pavel can almost take all of Hikaru’s fist at the shortest notice. He’s harried now, even though they have time, and he loves the way Hikaru’s channel fluctuates around him, opening right up for the familiar, probing fingers. Pavel gives him one to the knuckle, then two at once, scissoring him wider and littering his face with kisses. Hikaru fumbles at Pavel’s waist, opening his pants and pushing in one hand. Pavel doesn’t even know when he went for lube, but his hand’s wet as it wraps around Pavel’s pulsing cock, thick and hard and needy. Hikaru laughs fondly at his interest and kisses his chin.

The second Pavel thinks Hikaru’s ready, he wrenches his fingers out, positioning up. He has to bend Hikaru’s legs back, parting them around his lap, and he nestles in, his greedy fingers slipping in their haste and stumbling through the familiar motions. Hikaru always takes him so _easily_ so fast and efficient, the perfect pilot, even though Pavel should be just as good a navigator. Hikaru says Pavel’s young: Pavel just thinks Hikaru scrambles his brain. He shoves his hips forward and pops inside, moaning immediately, while Hikaru arches up and gasps. Pavel watches Hikaru’s pink muscles suck at his cock, and then he flattens himself back over Hikaru’s body, because he needs to keep kissing Hikaru’s face.

“I might be security one day,” Pavel mumbles for no reason, while his cock pistons its way to the hilt. Hikaru’s face is screwed up with the effort of taking him, and Pavel’s voice is laboured but steady. At the hilt, he grinds his hips in little circles; Hikaru’s so _tight_ and _hot_ , his velvety walls gobbling Pavel’s cock right up. He wishes Hikaru’s shirt was off, too, wants more skin on skin, but it’s too late now and Pavel’s not willing to adjust. He slides his bare torso wantonly against his lover’s, strokes at Hikaru’s sides and face and runs his teeth along Hikaru’s throat, then murmurs into the jut of his chin, “I’m good at it.”

Hikaru starts to talk, but Pavel’s second thrust cuts it off. Pavel jostles in again, pulls a little back and squirms around, trying to find it, wanting to make Hikaru scream, and _there_ it is—he shoves in and Hikaru cries out, head tossing back. Pavel eagerly stabs into that one spot again and again, with quick staccato thrusts that make him quiver just as much. Hikaru’s hands run all over Pavel’s body, fingers squeezing at his flesh and nails dragging, voice groaning, “I’ll miss having my Pavel at the helm, then.”

That _would_ be a shame. Pavel loves his job, of course he does, couldn’t do anything else, but he _loves_ seeing Hikaru’s pretty smile every morning. Every time he slips into his chair, and Hikaru’s right across from him, he’s _complete_ : it’s his purpose in life. He promises fervently, “I vill always come home to you, Hikaru, always.” Forever and ever. He nuzzles into Hikaru’s face one minute and tries to kiss the next, but the force of his thrusts make his own knees weak and he’s clumsy. Hikaru pets his face and runs one hand down his side, capturing his wrist and taking it to dip between their stomachs. Sandwiched there, Hikaru guides Pavel’s fingers around his cock, and Pavel whimpers, “Sorry.”

He pumps Hikaru faithfully. His hand is a mess of fluids and it makes it easy, though he can’t quite seem to find the right rhythm to match his own hips. Hikaru doesn’t seem to mind. Pavel thinks of wearing red and flanking his Hikaru on a mission and says dreamily, “When I am security, I vill keep you safe.”

“I’m a better fighter than you,” Hikaru laughs, and he _is_ , how could Pavel have forgotten that? Seeing Hikaru with a sword always makes Pavel horny. “I can keep myself safe, but I appreciate it all the same.” He kisses Pavel’s cheek so sweetly, like Pavel’s his little baby that needs all the protection in the world, even though Pavel’s the one trying to be big and strong. He was a powerful force before he wandered into Hikaru’s quarters and fell apart again. Now he’s just a bundle of uncontrolled pleasure.

He comes too soon. His orgasm hits him like a warbird at warp nine, slamming into him with a wave of ecstasy that makes his toes curl in his socks. He buries himself hard in Hikaru’s ass, bucking forward a few broken times, pumping his seed into his lover’s waiting ass. Filling Hikaru up is always a delicious feeling. Having Hikaru’s walls flutter around him is perfect. He can smell their arousal, but Hikaru’s musk is still stronger, and he digs his face into Hikaru’s inhaling everything and moaning loud, wrapping his arms around Hikaru’s middle to pull Hikaru tightly into him, so _everything he’s always wanted._

And then he’s a wreck, heady and spiraling down. His numb body is hot to the very ends, and he falls, heavy, across Hikaru, panting and dizzy. It takes him a second to remember to keep jerking Hikaru’s cock, until Hikaru squirms and follows, spilling messily between them.

Pavel mutters something that he means to be, _I love you_ , but he realizes too late that it’s come out in Russian. Hikaru mumbles back, “Love you too,” all the same.

Hikaru doesn’t complain about the weight, strong as he is, and Pavel eventually has to pull out and roll off on his own. He doesn’t go far, just slumps along Hikaru’s side with his hand across Hikaru’s chest, and he nuzzles happily into Hikaru’s neck and murmurs, “When you’re a keptin, you vill take me on your ship, yes?”

Pavel’s head swivels to look at him. He doesn’t look nearly so wrecked as Pavel does, but then, he’s not riding off the high of an away mission. And he never gets quite as red in the face as Pavel does. “You’ll be my chief of security.” He kisses Pavel’s forehead, sealing the promise.

“I love you.”

“So you said.” As Pavel grins wider, Hikaru adds, “What happened to all that adrenaline?”

“Burned out on my love for you,” Pavel yawns, wishing they’d pushed the blankets back so he could weasel under them now. Hikaru gets the idea and tries to extricate himself from the bed, but Pavel’s holding on too tight, hooking a leg around his and holding him by the waist. Finally, Hikaru gives Pavel’s shoulder a fake karate chop, and Pavel surrenders with a pout.

Slipping off the bed, Hikaru pushes the blankets down, and Pavel whines but wriggles out of the way. Hikaru brings them back up after, lovingly tucking Pavel in and chuckling fondly, “Have a good rest, Ensign Hero.”

“Yes, sir,” Pavel mumbles through his smirk. Hikaru bends down to peck his forehead, but the lights stay on, probably because one or another of his stupid plants needs the light. As Hikaru tucks himself back into his pants and picks up the spilled watering can, Pavel watches his rear for a bit, then closes heavy lids. All the thrill’s waned down into a tiredness that Pavel knows he has to dispel before his next shift sees him on the bridge again, ready to complete the mission.

For now, he settles into Hikaru’s bed and falls asleep to Hikaru’s scent in the pillows, clouded with dreams of Vulcan damsels.


End file.
